The Monster of Club Pop
by Krshaz
Summary: Looking for the ultimate party experience, Clay will discover a world where Trolls aren't what they seem and secrets of the past that make it difficult to know who to trust. (Written with the consent of the OC's owner) ((Warning: Graphic Violence))
1. The Legend

The deep dark caverns of Troll Village's heavy metal mines were as dark and cavernous as usual. Nothing much ever changed around there. Day in, day out, more days were alike than they were different. So at times, it could be boring. At least that's how Clay felt about it. A young, orange-eyed, troll in his mid twenties, he treasured the days when something exciting happened. Something as simple as finding a new mineral deposit could liven the day up down in the mine shafts. He could've left the family business to pursue more entertaining things, but whether he stayed out of loyalty to the family business or because he definitely enjoyed it, he couldn't say. Either way, this was his life, and he was alright with that.

For this day however, it particularly seemed to drag out. He'd been tasked with taking out the core samples from a rock wall of interest and recording what he found in them. Core samples were long, heavy cylinders, extracted from the earth. Giving them a picture of what they'd find should they start digging there. The only thing of interest Clay found in the samples was a trace of copper in one of them, but it was hardly enough to start celebrating. Checking the samples almost began to feel like a torture, placed on him by his brother who managed a lot of their father's business.

After Clay pulled the last core from rocky wall, he sat it down and plopped down right beside it. The cores were long and heavy, but it wasn't too difficult for him to move them. He'd been working in the mines since he was old enough to work and all that work built a lot of muscle. As strong as he was though, it still felt like a good time to take a break, meaning he didn't give a rat's ass about the task at hand, not that he actually needed the break. While sitting there, Clay thought again about how much fun he planned to have that night. This was going to be one of the biggest troll parties of the year.

The occasion was Queen Poppy's birthday and the entire troll village was invited for a night of crazy fun. Crazy fun was what Clay was all about. Unlike his, overly serious brother, Clay considered himself to be the fun one in the family. Now if only it didn't feel like time was dragging. It made him wonder if it would be worth it to just leave early. It wasn't as if the cores were going to crawl away. He could always check them tomorrow morning and that personal suggestion had decided it. Clay nodded to himself, with his arms crossed against his chest as he sat there on the hard cave floor.

Suddenly, an even stronger pair of arms than his own, grabbed around him from behind and lifted him back up to his feet. Once released from the grip, he turned around and wasn't surprised at all to see his brother's face. Only Slate ever picked him up like that. His brother looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Slate was a larger man than Clay, sporting a scruffy beard and his hair tied back into a bun. Other than his gray eyes, they were nearly identical in color, with Slate being just slightly darker. "Why are you just sitting around?" He asked in a strong voice that be-fit the troll it came from.

With a roll of his eyes and his arms still crossed, Clay replied, "I'm bored. I wish it was tonight already."

"Bored?" Slate was used to this answer from his younger brother by now, but that didn't mean he was any more okay with it with each time Clay said it. "I don't care if you're bored, this needs done so Dad can decide tomorrow, whether or not to start a new tunnel system here." As he spoke, Slate placed a hand on the rock wall, if only to push his point down Clay's throat.

Clay breathed out heavily. "Is there really no one else that can do this?"

"No. We had too many call-offs today." Slate explained, maintaining his patience with him.

"I guess… But even if I take him the reports _today_ , that doesn't mean he's going to make a decision by _tomorrow_. You know when Dad says tomorrow, he means next week." Clay groaned.

"And when he says, ' _have it to me by the end of the day'_ , he means have it in his hands by the end of the day or _tomorrow_ he'll make you do whatever job _he_ decides, instead of what job _I_ decide. And you know he's not afraid to put us down in the deep tunnels." Slate said immediately after.

Flashbacks of working in the deep tunnels made Clay pause for a moment. The tunnels where workers have to crawl on their knees in the nearly unbearable heat with the constant threat of a cave-in. But as quickly as the fear came on, it subsided as Clay shook his head to escape from it. "Then I guess it's a risk I'm willing to take, since I was just getting ready to leave."

"What?!" Slate snapped. "There's still two hours of work left, at least. I needed you to go help out in the East B tunnel because their productivity has been down the last few days and with all of the call-offs, we're getting to far behind. That's why I came to get you because I assumed you'd at least have the core reports done already."

"Man…" Clay said jokingly, "Those boys in the East tunnels need all the help they can get, am I right?"

"This isn't funny." Slate said as he frowned. "This is work. This is serious."

Clay shrugged. "And it'll get done when it gets done. You can't micromanage everything. Shit happens." Then, looking Slate in the eyes, he said without missing a beat. "I'm leaving."

"Damn it, Clay!" Slate snapped again, grabbing Clay's arm to stop him as he turned to leave. "What am I supposed to tell Dad?"

"Tell him I felt sick or something. It's not like he'll be at the party later to see me. Dad's as much of a workaholic as you. But hey, you better be there. You're tense as fuck, bro." That said, Clay pulled away and went to the cage elevator that lead up to the ground level.

Slate knew there was no stopping Clay unless he tied him up and forced him to stay. But even then, he knew his brother would find a way to slip out of that too. "Yeah, I'll be there later." He said begrudgingly as he watched him leave. Leaving Slate to finish his brother's job, as well as his own.

Their family's mining business was a decent walk away from the village, but Clay was able to make it there in half the time with his flier bug. The party hasn't even started yet, it wasn't even dark and already trolls from all over the village were beginning to gather. From his flier, Clay could see all of the tables full of treats and punch being put out for the early guests. He had no doubt these things wouldn't be in short supply, it was the Queen's birthday afterall. But also, much to his surprise, or lack there-of, there was no alcohol being served. Again, it was to be expected at the Queen's birthday party.

When Clay spotted his friend Maple, he took the flier down and landed abruptly behind his friend, making Maple jump. "Guess who got out of work early?" Clay said more excitedly than usual as he got off the flier. Letting it fly off to be a bug somewhere else for a while.

"Got off early, or just left early?" Maple asked, already knowing the answer and still settling down from the scare that Clay was going to crash into him.

Clay didn't answer, but grinned about the question as he gave his friend a hug. When he let go, he then asked, "So why're you off work so early?"

"I took the day off." Maple replied, pointing at his head. "I planned ahead."

"Pft… There were so many call-offs at the mines this morning, I think Slate was gonna bust a follicle. But it's all good." Muttered Clay before rubbing his hands together and looking around at the slowly growing crowd deviously. "I hope shit gets wild tonight. Lots of girls and killer music."

"More like lots of glitter and pop music." Maple said, shooting his friend's hopes down to reality. "You come to these things expecting too much." It wasn't a secret that Maple was a little concerned about his friend, but he wouldn't do anything to actually hinder Clay's pursuit of a good time.

Just then, with a snap of his fingers, Clay remembered something. "I almost forgot. I wanted to introduce you to this cool guy I met the other night. He said he'd be here tonight. His name is Jiggs."

Maple didn't immediately answer. Instead, thinking about whether or not he wanted to meet someone who met Clay's definition of 'cool'. "I'm not sure…"

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't regret it. This guy said he has connections. _Awesome_ connections." Clay was playing up the hype. "He told me, he could actually help me meet _The Party Queen_." He whispered the last part.

Maple was confused, but tried to follow. "Queen Poppy?"

"No." Clay continued to whisper more out of excitement, than actually needing to whisper anything. "I'm talking about Sugar Pop. She's that glitter troll that-"

"She isn't real. Sugar Pop is just an urban legend to scare kids into partying safe." Maple interrupted him.

"And that is where you've fallen for the lies, my friend." Clay said with so much assurance it had Maple concerned again. "I'm gonna find the legend and become the new party god of Troll Village."

It was a moment before Maple responded, making sure he heard his friend right. "Okay..."

As the hours moved along at a much quicker pace, much to Clay's liking, things began to pick up. Clay got to say hi to a bunch of friends as he and Maple moved around the event. The music began to play and as the sun started to set, there were some fireworks. Even a few Bergens made it to celebrate the Queen's birthday, all of them taking special care not to step on anyone. Clay didn't have much interest in Bergen's though. It was the troll he spotted by the punch bowl that grabbed his attention.

A troll with brown hair and tan skin, wearing khakis to match. Clay grabbed Maple's wrist and dragged him in tow as he waved to the troll to get his attention. "Hey! Jiggs! Hey, it's me, Clay!"

Jiggs turned around and waved back to him casually. "Hey! I was wondering when you'd find me. Who's this big guy?" He asked, nodding to Maple.

"This is Maple. He's my best bud." Clay answered, then turned to Maple. "This is Jiggs, that cool dude I told you about earlier."

Maple didn't appreciate being dragged over to someone he'd never met before. He responded to Clay with a nod, but stayed back a bit.

"Quit being so shy, this guy is alright, trust me." Clay said, insistently.

With a deep breath and not wanting to come off as rude, Maple shook Jiggs' hand. "Hi." Attempting to initiate casual conversation, he then asked, "How come I haven't seen you around before?"

Jiggs shrugged, swirling his cup of punch around as he spoke. "I'm a writer for the newspaper, so I don't really get out much. I do the musings columb. That's me." He smiled, obviously pleased with his choice of career.

"A writer?" Maple gave Clay a questioning look. He may not have been the party animal that Clay was, but Maple was fairly certain he knew the definition of the word 'cool'. Jiggs didn't seem to fit it. "This is the guy who knows that mythical party girl, you told me about?"

Clay nodded and then turned his attention to Jiggs. "Do you think we'll get to meet her tonight?"

"Probably? Goldie said she usually hangs out at these things." Jiggs answered and took a drink of punch. He then glanced from his drink, back to them. "I'm sure you're wondering, so I'll tell you, Goldie is my girlfriend, and Sugar Pop…" He leaned in to whisper to them, "...and Sugar Pop is her cousin!"

"Ha! Told you she wasn't just an urban legend." Clay retorted to Maple.

Maple took a step back, giving Clay a very concerned look. "You're more excited tonight than I've ever seen you before. Is this really that big of a deal for you?"

Clay hadn't expected Maple to say that, but taking his friend's words to heart, he could see where he'd been acting a bit more unusual that day. "I guess I'm just chasing a high." He sighed, letting himself settle. "I mean, even if I did meet her, what's the chance she'd talk to me? I'm riding on hope, man."

"She hates me." Jiggs added suddenly with a shrug. Both Clay and Maple looked back at Jiggs, who continued to talk. "When and if you do meet Sugar Pop, she's a bit intense. The only thing she said when Goldie introduced me to her was, 'go away'. I'm not sure what her problem is, but she's definitely a closed book." He smiled, proud of himself for the dumb writer's reference.

"Well that's reassuring…" Clay sighed, hanging his head low, feeling defeated before even having a chance. "Guess that leads me to Plan B." He raised his head back up.

"What's Plan B?" Maple asked, almost not wanting to know.

"Time to hunt down some arm-candy." Clay grinned and proceeded to turn around so he could complete his new quest, but the moment he spun around, he bumped into a girl. "Oh, sorry!" He said out of reflex. It was then he realized it was a beautiful golden glitter troll and his tone quickly changed to became slow and suggestive. "Hey…"

The girl took a step back and just smiled at him. Unimpressed with his speedy attempt at hitting on her. "Hey, to you too. But before you go digging yourself into a grave, you're blocking me from my boyfriend. Who is standing right behind you." Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and she wore black leather.

When it clicked in Clay's head that this must be Jigg's girlfriend, he immediately stepped out of her way and apologized. "Sorry…" He felt a little embarrassed.

"You didn't know." Jiggs said, showing he wasn't offended. Goldie greeted Jiggs with a kiss.

Seeing the contrasting pair left Clay wondering how two trolls like them ended up together. "If it's not too weird, do you mind if I ask how you met? You're just so… _different_."

Goldie was the one to answer this question after her and Jiggs gave each other a half smile. "My life feels like a trainwreck sometimes and I like the sense of stability he gives me."

"Were you rehearsing that answer in your head?" Jiggs asked her with a chuckle. Goldie responded with a giggle as well. As different as they were on the outside, they seemed very in sync on the inside. After sharing their laugh, Jiggs then asked her, "These guys were wondering if you'd introduce them to your cousin? They've heard about the infamous Sugar Pop and need to see the legend for themselves."

"Not me, just him." Maple said immediately, pointing a thumb at Clay. "I'll accept that I was wrong and she does exist, but I'm not interested in meeting her. I'm just here to have a good time, not go thrill hunting."

"I get ya." Clay nodded, respecting his friend's need for a casual party experience.

"Okay." Jiggs said, in response. He didn't care much either way since he'd only just met Maple and he still barely knew Clay. "I guess just Clay wants to meet her." He said to Goldie.

This was when Goldie's happy expression faded and she immediately looked between all of them with troubled eyes. "I don't know… She's been in a mood today. I don't know if I should bother her right now."

Opportunity. Exactly what Clay had been excited for all day. The chance to meet someone who could show him a _real_ party. This was it. "I promise, it would be really quick. I just want to meet her."

Goldie crossed her arms. "If she's still like she was earlier, I don't see how you'll get much out of this? Maybe I could introduce you another time?"

"I'm at work most of the time. This might be my only chance." Clay went on, not easily giving up.

Maple sighed, "Yeah, I definitely ain't getting involved in this dead-end adventure. Good luck, Clay." With just a wave, he left them.

Clay waved to Maple, but his attention was still on Goldie, waiting for her answer.

"I really think you're going to be disappointed." Goldie said heavily, realizing she most likely wouldn't win this fight. It wasn't in her to put up much of a fight anyway. "But… I suppose it would be okay."

"Yes!" Clay exclaimed. "Can I meet her now? Where is she?"

"Just… follow me." Goldie gestured for Clay and Jiggs to follow her into the crowd as she lead them to where she remembered her cousin last being at. At this point, the party was in full swing and literally the entire village was there. It was a solid ten minutes of winding through colorful dancing bodies before they reached the outskirts of the social gathering.

"Wait. Are we leaving the party?" Clay asked, getting confused.

Goldie paused. "Kinda, sorta. Sugar is definitely a background troll-" She stopped and pointed toward a tree. "Nevermind, there she is." Not far from where they were, a magenta colored glitter troll, wearing all leather and sunglasses, leaned against a tree, watching the party from a distance.

This wasn't what Clay expected and he turned to Goldie. "I've seen that person lingering around the village before. You mean, this whole time, that's been…"

"Yeah. That's my cousin, Sugar Pop. The one everyone talks about." Goldie answered, walking again towards the other glitter troll.

"Hey Sugar, you doin' alright?" Goldie asked as they approached her.

Sugar Pop responded to Goldie's voice by glancing in her direction, but immediately turned away when she saw that her cousin had brought friends. "I was fine until you brought _him_ back and apparently a new one." She said under her breath.

"I wish you'd be nicer to him." Goldie replied, taking Jiggs by the hand. "He's good to me."

With no reply to that, Sugar Pop turned her head to Clay.

Clay felt as though she were staring a hole through him. Even though he couldn't see her eyes, he just knew. "U-um… hi. I'm Clay."

Sugar Pop, unexpectedly, got up from the tree and stepped over to Clay, now staring him in the face. "You're related to Slate, aren't you?" She suddenly asked. "A little different… but you two look a lot alike."

"Yeah… He's my older brother." Clay was definitely shocked by this. "How do you know him?"

"I know a lot of people." She answered, then glanced down at his shirt. There was a very long pause, so long it made everyone start to feel awkward that she was just staring into his chest, when suddenly, Sugar Pop burst into laughter. "Miners do it dirty?!" She laughed so hard, she had to lean onto her knees. "What the fuck is that?! Okay, you're funny kid, you're funny." She had to make herself calm down, but that was hard now that Clay was laughing.

"I knew someone would get a kick out of that!" He laughed.

Jiggs and Goldie looked at each other like they'd just seen the sky fall. Goldie hadn't heard her cousin laugh like that in so long, she'd forgotten what Sugar's laugh sounded like. When the shock of what was happening wore off, she smiled. This made her so happy, she hugged Jiggs.

"So you're a miner like your brother then, huh? That explains why you're so fucking dirty." Sugar said, referencing the fact that Clay was obviously covered in dirt stains.

"Miners do it dirty." Clay snarked and both he and Sugar Pop once again burst into laughter.

Their laughter was cut short however by the sound of Slate calling out to Clay to get his attention. Clay looked back and waved his brother over. He thought this was perfect, he'd get to find out exactly how Sugar Pop apparently knew his brother this whole time. Whereas Sugar noticeably tried to duck behind Clay when she saw Slate coming their way. Clay looked at her, then noticed Goldie was trying to duck away as well. It confused him.

When Slate reached them, he immediately lost his smile and frowned at Sugar Pop. "Why are you talking to Clay?" He asked her.

"Bro, what's wrong?" Clay asked, confused by the change in atmosphere. "We were just-"

Goldie quickly stepped over, interrupting him. "Hey Slate, long time no see, but we should probably get going..." She said, taking Sugar's hand, clearly in the midsts of damage-control.

"No, I asked a question." Slate gently moved Goldie out of the way to speak with Sugar. "Why are you talking to my brother, Sugar Pop?" Slate asked again directly and firmly.

Both Clay and Jiggs had to step back, having no idea what sparked this confrontation.

Sugar Pop couldn't bring herself to look at him, but answered submissively, "It's nothing you need to worry about." It was clear to everyone that Slate made her uncomfortable.

"And you didn't tell him anything?" Slate asked. "Right?"

"Why would I tell him anything about that? I just met him. I didn't even know you had a brother." She answered quickly. "Just leave me alone." Sugar Pop turned her back on the situation completely, leaving them and wandering off into the forest, away from the party and people.

Slate watched her go, then turned to Clay who looked at him in utter confusion. "Don't bother with that one, you can do better." He said, assuming Clay was only talking to her to hit on her.

Clay was speechless and it took him a moment to even find the right words to say, but by the time he did, his brother had already left them. So he turned to Goldie who looked upset. "What the hell happened between those two?" He asked.

"Nothing that concerns you." She answered, lowering her head as she walked away from the situation too. Jiggs followed close behind her, wanting to comfort his girlfriend.

"Wow…" Clay muttered, the last one left standing there. With no answers as to why his brother seemed to have some beef with his new friend or even if Sugar Pop was his friend at all after this, he just re-joined the party. Needing its distraction.


	2. The Mystery

Clay's morning was nothing short of draining after the night before. In order to rid himself of feeling like a loser in front of Sugar Pop, he did the most logical thing. Went to the bar and drank himself under the table. Unfortunately, hindsight wasn't kind to him. He had woken up in the pod of a girl he couldn't remember hooking up with. Was hours late for work and had a splitting headache. To top it off, he still couldn't forget about Sugar Pop.

The moment he finally did make it to the mines, he went straight to the central hub where his dad usually worked. It was just a large pod outside the mines, with windows all around. This was where they kept track of everything going in and out of the mines. Both materials and workers. Upon entering, he expected his dad to be there, waiting to scold him on being late, but to his surprise, it was empty. It was about 9am at this point, so he stacked it up to his dad going to first break a bit earlier than usual. Clay couldn't be bothered to look at the clock to confirm though. All in all, it didn't matter that much to him. Getting to work late without confrontation was a blessing, in his book.

A desk close to the entrance, covered in paperwork, clipboards and charts, was where Clay knew he would find his assigned task for the day. Picking up the right clipboard, he scanned it for his name, but couldn't find it in the usual places he was assigned. That was when he begrudgingly flipped the page to confirm what the suspected cause was. Added to the list of deep mine workers was Clay's name.

With a curse, he threw the clipboard back down. "Fuck that." He spurned and turned to leave, but didn't make it a single step before being forced to stop.

Blocking the doorway, stood Slate. "Fuck what? _Fuck me?_ Because that's exactly what you did by not showing up on time. Do you realize how far behind we are?"

"Don't start with that again." Clay pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. "I had a few too many last night and overslept. Calm down."

"I am calm. I'm just sick of having to pick up after you. And, Dad has had enough of your attitude lately, too." Slate crossed his arms. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Good thing Dad was here to say something to my face, instead of sending you to do it. Otherwise your point might not have hit me over the head hard enough." Clay's sarcasm was soft, but on point.

Slate scowled. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Nothing." He said. "There's a lot on my mind. _I'm sorry_ , okay?"

"Okay…" Slate took a long, calming deep breath, allowing his tightened body to relax. The apology would have to be enough for now. "Just, get to work and I'll drop it, alright? There's a lot to do today and-"

"No." Clay interrupted. "I'm not going down there. This is just _your_ way of punishing me, and you know it. There are plenty of specially trained miners down there to get the job done. They don't need my help. Put me somewhere else."

"Clay, it's what _Dad_ assigned you, not me. You don't have a choice. I warned you this would happen." Slate anticipated resistance and took a firm stance, but sympathy for his brother softened the impact. "Is there anything I can do to make it easier?"

Arms crossed and a challenging stare, there was only one thing Clay knew for certain would help ease him. That would make going down into the deepest, darkest and most dangerous part of the mines, somewhat bearable. "Tell me what happened between you and Sugar Pop. Why did you start acting like an asshole when you saw me with her?"

Defensively, Slate rephrased his question. "I meant, what can I do to help you feel more comfortable working down there? Last night has nothing to do with anything."

"Knowing would _actually_ make me feel **a lot** better, because I really wanted her to like me and you ruined it. She'll probably never talk to me again, now. So please, explain to me why you did that?" Clay's hands moved to his hips as he waited for answers.

"That's none of your business, now drop it." He demanded through his teeth. "I don't want to hear anymore about this."

"Why?" He asked. "Just tell me what happened."

Slate balled his fists. "It doesn't matter what happened because you're going to drop this, you're going to forget about her, and you're going to get your ass to work!"

He felt heaviness in his chest after that blow, but determination pushed Clay forward. "What the fuck, Slate? All you have to do is tell me what you did to her!"

"I didn't do a damned thing to her." Slate growled.

"Then what did she do to you?" He asked desperately.

"Nothing!" Slate snapped. "And if you can't see trouble in front of your face, then it isn't worth discussing with an immature idiot!"

The ache in his chest became a lump in his throat, as his ears and eyes fell. He couldn't look at him anymore. "Fine." Clay muttered with bitterness in his voice.

Whether they were grown men or young boys, Slate knew when he hurt his little brother's feelings and it sent him crashing back down with a wave of guilt. "It's just something you wouldn't understand." He said.

Going back to the desk, Clay got into one of the top drawers and took out a specific clipboard. Aggressively slamming the drawer shut hard enough to push the desk back a few inches. "Oh, I fucking understand. I'm just too much of an immature idiot to let it go. So if anyone needs me or just wants to kick me while I'm down some more, I'll be in the warehouse doing inventory."

Slate knew he deserved the harsh reaction, but tried to keep a level head when it came to work matters. "I did inventory the other day, there's nothing to do. Why don't you-"

"Bite me." Clay spat as he walked out the door, never once giving Slate a glance.

A few hours alone in the warehouse were a comforting, albit boring, solution to ease Clay's frustration with the situation he found himself in. In all that time he spent in there, going from bin to bin with the clipboard, he never wrote a single thing down. There was nothing new to be record, or worth even making a note of. From limestone to copper, coal to marble, nothing was in short supply. Slate had been right about inventory already being finished, but Clay needed to make himself feel like he was contributing something. If only to justify himself and to prove that he did, in fact, take the family business seriously to an audience that didn't exist.

Gently running the tips of his fingers over smoothed slabs of granite that sat along the walls, he replayed what had happened over and over in his head. Clay became lost in the conflicting thoughts as he figuratively floated throughout the warehouse. His brother overblowing any situation that came up wasn't new. That's just the way Slate had always been. Only getting worse when their father made him manager. So being scolded and punished for his recent, lack-luster work ethic, wasn't beyond the realm of understand at all. It helped Clay to frequently remind himself that Slate had a reason for everything he did. Slate was predictable, _right?_

"It doesn't make any sense, Slate. You've never kept secrets like this from me before, _unless..._ You're trying to protect me?" Clay whispered to himself. Now leaning against a bin, eyes focused on a piece of smooth stone he was rubbing in his palm. "From what, though?" He dropped the stone and moved on.

At the back of the large warehouse was a separate section, closed off by a locked door. This was were they kept the "precious" metals and materials that came from the mines. Things such as gemstones, gold, silver, platinum. Anything that wasn't overly abundant in their digs. Clay stood outside the door, searching his pockets for the keys until a realization sank in. He had stormed out of the central hub before remembering to grab them. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the clipboard onto the ground and leaned against the wall beside the door. There was nothing that made him want to go back for the keys and risk running into his dad or Slate again.

Arms crossed, he thought out loud again. "A lot of this would make sense if Sugar Pop was the one who did something to him. Maybe she broke up with him and that's why he doesn't want to talk about it?" Sliding down the wall, he was now sitting next to the clipboard and glanced at it as he continued. "There's so much I don't know about her, maybe she _is_ a bad person? Everyone tells me something different. Guys in the bar talk about her like she's the underground party queen. Jiggs and Goldie made her out to be totally unapproachable last night. Then there's Slate. Acting like she's a fucking bitch, not worth my time... I _want_ to trust him, though. So, I mean… _maybe he's right?_ But…"

He sighed. "Something tells me they're all wrong. Unless I met the wrong girl last night, because she wasn't any of those things." Clay leaned his head back and looked up, seeing the tip of his orange hair curling forward against the grey tones of the warehouse ceiling. A building, not made of hair, but made of the very materials that it housed. Finally, he found himself forming a sincere smile. "I'm gonna drive myself crazy trying to figure out what's going on around here… _Great._ "

The quiet of the warehouse was broken by the grinding sound of the large metal door being pulled open. Followed by familiar voices that made Clay both roll his eyes and twitch his ears in curiosity. Of course one of the trolls entering the warehouse had to be Slate, his voice was unmistakable, but the other, sounded like Jiggs. He wondered what Jiggs would be doing there. It wasn't unusual for trolls from the village to come to the mines looking for materials. That's what their family business was. Supplying the village with anything they needed. However, as far as he could remember, Jiggs had never been there before.

Voices grew louder as they approached, giving Clay the opportunity to hear what they were saying before they reached him. Something about needing something immediately for something special was all he could make out before he was face to face with them. Watching them approach from down the long row of marked bins, Clay's eyes met with Slate's and locked. Without words, each let the other know that they weren't on good terms, but this wasn't the time or place to bring it up. Not in front of a customer. Despite their frequent disagreements, they knew each other very well.

"Are you alright?" Jiggs asked, offering Clay a hand.

Taking the offer, Clay got to his feet. "I was just taking a break. What're you doing here?" He asked while picking up the clipboard. Aiding the illusion that he was doing actual work.

"I need something, special. It's… personal." He looked away, avoiding eye contact. A blush was very easy to spot on Jiggs' tan cheeks and he knew it.

" _What?_ " Clay looked to Slate with a raised brow, wanting some clue as to what was going on.

"Don't ask me. I haven't been able to get much more than that out of him, myself. I probably would've just sent him in here alone for you to deal with, but I had a feeling you wouldn't be much help if he needed something from the back. So I figured I'll just add this onto my growing list of things to do today." Slate dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. Holding them up to make sure Clay knew exactly what they were. The keys to the warehouse backroom that he had forgotten.

Gazing from the keys, back to his obviously embarrassed friend. Clay took a deep breath and spoke calmly as he turned his attention to Slate. "I know you have a lot on your shoulders today, so _please_ , give me the keys and let me handle this. Jiggs is my friend and I wouldn't mind taking the time to help him get what he needs. Even if he is…" Again, he gave Jiggs a questioning look, "...being weird."

Slate said nothing.

Expecting an answer, Clay looked back at him and frowned. That was what he hoped to avoid. Preparing for another argument, he asked again, "Slate, please? Just let me do this." Maintaining his calm composure was the best he could do to not start trouble.

Still saying nothing, Slate nodded and placed the keys in Clay's hand. The slight smile that followed was more than anything he could've said.

As Clay watched, understandably surprised by Slate's compliance, he half-smiled back. Without saying anything, he had a strong idea of what his brother was trying to say to him and accepted his apology. By no means did it completely clear the air between them, but the gesture was appreciated.

"Your brother is very intimidating." Jiggs said, appearing normal again.

"Intimidating? _Nah._ " He smirked. "Maybe an asshole sometimes, but he means well."

"You know him better than anyone, so I'll take your word for it." Jiggs replied.

Revitalized by Slate's gesture, Clay wanted to do right by him and take this seriously. "I understand that you want something special, but I can't let anything leave here unapproved or unsupervised. It's my Dad's rule. So what exactly do you want?"

Jiggs couldn't completely shake off the red in his cheeks, but was able to articulate now that it was just Clay and himself. "I need a chunk of gold. It's for a ring."

"Why?" Clay asked. Typically the only trolls coming in for gold were the jewelers, using it to make any number of things to share at the market. An individual request was unusual. "If you want a gold ring, you can get one at the market. This seems like going an unnecessary mile, dude. Besides, with how hard it is for us to mine gold, I can't just go giving it away."

"I understand that, and I know my request seems pointless when you put it that way. I'm gonna have to take the gold to a jeweler to make the ring anyway. But it just wouldn't be as meaningful if I traded for one that I didn't put my heart into." He explained, aware that rejection was a possibility. "This ring isn't going to be for me. It's an engagement ring." Again, he blushed uncontrollably as the words came out and turned away.

Clay's eyes widened.

"I won't make a scene if you can't, but I beg you to consider it. I'm going to ask Goldie to marry me." He muttered, preparing himself to handle being turned away.

"That's the best reason I've ever heard of for needing some gold. It's this way, come on." Clay said, followed by the sound of the key unlocking the backroom door.

"You're a saint." Jiggs felt his heart skip and smiled as he was led inside.

The backroom looked nearly identical to the main part of the warehouse. Labeled bins lined the walls, each with a locked lid requiring a second key to get to what was inside. On the far end of the room was the one they wanted, reading GOLD above it. Clay used the other key on the same ring to open the padlock on the heavy wooden lid. Requiring a decent amount of strength, he lifted the lid and setup the rod to hold it open, then backed away.

"Get whatever you need." Clay waved his arms at the bin, essentially giving Jiggs his blessings to raid it to his heart's content.

Jiggs could barely contain how happy he was and practically leaped to give Clay a hug. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Smiling too, Clay returned the hug. "I'm just happy to help."

When they released each other from the embrace, Jiggs wasted no time getting into the bin, inspecting each and every piece of gold. Looking for the perfect one.

"I never would've guessed things were that serious between you two. You must really love her." Clay said, making small talk while watching his friend.

"We've been together for a while. I can't imagine life without her. Obviously she's the most beautiful girl in the world, but there's so much more to her than that. Her imagination is wild, she has the best sense of humor, she's a hell of a dancer, I could go on and on…" He sighed dreamily. "You know, there was one day we were out having a picnic by the tree where we met. I had brought this really old syfy book I'd found at the library that I thought she'd like and guess what she did? When I showed it to her, she looked me dead in the eyes and told me exactly how the book ended."

"Were you mad?" Clay asked.

"Not at all." He chuckled. "We ended up spending the whole time coming up with theories about the story, gushed over our favorite characters and we even came up with the way it should've ended. We both actually agreed that the book's ending was horrible."

Clay grinned, they were definitely both nerds. Even if Goldie didn't look like one. "So you said you met by a tree? How'd that happen?"

Jiggs lifted his head from the bin. In his hand was a beautiful piece of gold that he inspected as he answered the question. "That's not an easy story to tell, but I don't see any harm in telling it to you. You see, one time I had fallen asleep by a tree and didn't wake up until the middle of the night. And before you ask, I just like going out into the woods to read in peace sometimes. But that's not the point. The point is, this particular time, I happened to doze off. So there I was, freaking out and packing up my things as quickly as I could because I was in the woods at night, alone. Except, I soon realized I wasn't actually alone. On the opposite side of the tree, I heard a woman crying. So I went around to see who was there and that's how I met Goldie. Seeing me was a shock for her too, because she had no idea I was there either."

"Why was she crying?" Clay's ears lowered. "If it isn't too much to ask."

"She never told me. I just knew she was in pain." Jiggs frowned, his brows furrowed. "That's why I'm going to do everything I can to make her happy for the rest of our lives. Because it tears me apart knowing how much she hurts inside. Knowing what's under the mask she has to wear, just to laugh or smile. I love her _so much_ , but all I can do is be her shoulder to cry on and it's all because of Sugar Pop's fucking club."

Clay's heart went out to them, but the last thing Jiggs said has his ears perking right back up. "Sugar Pop has a club?"

Turning pale, Jiggs seemed to freeze in place, with the unmistakable look of dread washing over him. "Oh god…" He whispered, putting a hand over his mouth.

Adding an entirely new layer onto what was turning out to be a giant conspiracy theory, Clay knew what he just heard was something Jiggs wasn't supposed to say. "What is Sugar Pop's club?" He pushed.

"Clay, please, just let it go." Jiggs pleaded. "Forget that I said anything."

 _Again. It was happening again._ Clay balled his fists and grit his teeth. "I'm so fucking tired of everyone hiding shit from me."

Jiggs put a hand on Clay's shoulder. "Please calm down."

"Calm down?!" Clay snapped, shoving Jiggs' hand off of him. "You're the one who bragged to me at the bar that you knew her. You're the one who agreed to help me meet her at the party. And now, because I did, Slate and I are fighting and every time I find out something new about her I get told to drop it, like I'm a fucking child that can't handle the truth! It really sucks, but I get that there's probably a reason my brother isn't telling me shit. He's just ridiculously overprotective sometimes, but you have no excuse. It's your fault I'm even in this mess and if _anyone_ owes me answers, you're at the top of the fucking list!"

Watching Clay breath heavily after his emotional outburst, Jiggs took a step back. His ears and gaze lowering with guilt. "You're right… You're absolutely right."

Clay said nothing, physically and mentally recovering from unleashing his grievances onto Jiggs. Being told that he was right, however, did grab his attention.

"This _is_ entirely my fault. I thought that if I brought a friend along that was as cool as her, she'd finally loosen up enough to accept me dating Goldie. I was thinking about myself and not the repercussions of what such a scenario could bring. I didn't mean to cause a rift between you and your brother. I swear to you, had no idea that they knew each other or that they were on bad terms. I'm sorry." He apologized, sincerely.

The apology meant a lot to Clay, even though he couldn't show it at the moment.

"I'm not going to promise to have all the answers, because there's a lot that I don't know, myself. You do deserve something, though. So I'll tell you what I _do_ know." Jiggs said. "But I can't right now, not here. Would you be willing to meet me at my office this afternoon? It's in the big yellow ground pod that says, News Pod, in the village. The one where all the newspapers come from. Trust me, you can't miss it. Anyway, that's where I'm going after I drop off the gold at the jewelers and I'll be there until tonight. This is the best I can do for you, Clay. Will you be there?"

"I'll be there." Clay quietly answered. "I'm sorry I flipped out… Thank you."

Jiggs surprised Clay with another hug, one that they both needed.


	3. The Meeting

Punching keys, followed by a clack and slide. The old typewriter was loud, but functional. While busy working on his next piece for the village newspaper, Jiggs was lost in the words. Forgetting about time, or surroundings, or a certain someone he agreed to meet with. So the sudden heavy-handed knock on his door was enough of a jolt to bring him back to reality.

Two consecutive knocks and a single harder one; it was the distinct knocking of the main desk secretary, Heather. Now, Jiggs knew he was in for a treat, because he'd forgotten to warn Clay that she had a tendency to either be too loud or delightfully sassy. Of course anyone could've said something to her about keeping the noise down, but no one had the heart or guts to do it. No one wanted to be on the wrong end of her attitude.

"There's a man named Clay, here to see you!" she yelled, unaware he could've heard her perfectly fine without the huge announcement.

Today it was loud. "I know, Heather! Send him in!" shouted Jiggs, failing to suppress his chuckle. Amused by how this exchange must have been interpreted by Clay.

The door opened and Clay quickly shuffled himself inside. "Thanks," he said, quietly. Faking a smile and a half-hearted wave to the purple Troll who showed him the way, as she left. Clay made sure to wait a moment after she shut the door to turn to Jiggs. The sound of his friend's muffled laughter was comforting. "You could've given me some warning about the girl at the front desk? I thought she was gonna bust my eardrum," he joked.

It took a moment for Jiggs to say anything at all. Having to lift his face from his folded arms on the desk and wipe away a stray tear. "I'm so sorry," he said. "She's something else, I know."

"I'd say so," said Clay as he took an opportunity to glance around the office. Shelves and cabinets, even the desk, were all cluttered from floor to ceiling with years worth of folded up newspapers. It was a level of organized chaos he wasn't accustomed to. The newspapers closest to the floor were yellowed with age, tucked beneath newer, cleaner, ones. The distinct scent of old book and dust made it feel more like a small stuffy library, than a work office. A few books were stacked on the desk, their spines nearly torn apart from being read so often. All-in-all, everything was almost exactly the way he imagined it would be, but he still felt unprepared for what he was actually seeing.

"The mess is magnificent, but no pictures, please? Have a seat," said Jiggs with a smirk.

Caught staring, Clay nodded and quickly took a seat in one of the chairs across the desk. It was only now, however, that he took notice of the window directly behind Jiggs. The orange glow that soaked through the drawn shades and was hitting him uncomfortably in the face. This lead Clay to question if the window was made with the intention of capturing the sunset or was a poor design choice. Either way, the lovely warmth couldn't make up for being nearly blinded and he was forced to scoot the chair over. Making it squeak loudly.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot about that window," Jiggs apologized quickly. "I'm always faced away from it and I never get any visitors."

"It's fine," said Clay, getting himself comfortable. "Did everything work out with the ring, by the way?" he asked.

Jiggs smiled, not expecting the follow-up. "Everything worked out great. I found a guy who said he can have it ready in two days," he answered excitedly.

"That's awesome!" Clay smiled too and for a moment the positive vibes they shared through casual conversation would've been enough. That is, if there hadn't been an elephant in the room. Their eyes met and the happiness faded. An awkward silence fell over them as they both waited to see who would be the first to bring it up.

Taking the initiative, Clay cleared his throat and asked, "Why does the name on your door and desk say, Kensington? I honestly thought that secretary brought me to the wrong office."

"You really do have a way of knowing just what to ask me, don't you?" sighed Jiggs, as he pushed away from his desk and stood. His eyes averted from Clay as he walked around. Stepping carefully over piles of newspapers in a pattern he mastered after years of hoarding.

"What are you doing?" asked Clay.

Jiggs didn't answer, continuing on his way toward the door. Very gently, he opened it just a crack. Big enough for him to peer out and confirm that no other trolls were in earshot of his office. Satisfied with their level of privacy, he closed the door and locked it. Even jiggling the handle to be sure it was locked tight. "Being paranoid," he finally answered.

"If this is about the name, then you've lost me. I came here asking to see Jiggs and was brought here. So there's no way it's a big secret or anything, _right?_ Are you borrowing this office from someone?" asked Clay, intrigued by the situation he found himself in. As he watched Jiggs go back to the desk, he put his feet up on his own chair and pulled his knees up to his chest. Using his arms to hold them. The chair creaked some more, but was sturdy enough to support his child-like pose.

"No, this is actually my office. Kensington is my pen name," answered Jiggs, sitting behind the desk again. He leaned over and grabbed a random newspaper. It didn't matter which one. All he needed was to open it to the gossip section and hold it up for Clay to see. The article titled, _Pods of the Future?_ , wasn't a particularly memorable piece. But served as a perfect example for Jiggs to point out the name of the author. Under the title read, _Written By, J. Kensington._

"Cool…" said Clay, slowly. Nodding, with a raised brow, and questioning why Jiggs thought he needed to show him the newspaper for him to understand. Or if Jiggs thought he wouldn't have believed him otherwise. "Why exactly is this a big deal, again? I'm not following."

Folding and placing the newspaper back on the pile it originated from, Jiggs wasn't oblivious to how silly his reaction to the situation appeared. "The _big deal_ is that my pen name is a direct result of the very place I _accidently_ told you about earlier. Club Pop," he sighed.

"Seriously? How?" Clay's feet were back on the floor as he moved to the edge of his seat, ears perking up with excitement.

" _Where do I begin?_ " Jiggs asked himself. Resting his elbows on the desk and his head against his wrist. "My pen name is a personal choice to protect myself, because no story is worth risking my life. Sadly, my friend Morocco, the previous writer of the gossip column, didn't take such precautions."

"What happened to him?" asked Clay.

"He was never heard from again," he answered with a distant look in his eyes. "Morocco's last article was going to be a piece dispelling all the rumors surrounding Club Pop. Up until then, the secret club in the woods, had just been a rumor. It's _still_ just a rumor, but I know the truth. The night before he disappeared, I helped him edit the story. I was the only one he shared his projects with before they were made public. So, I know exactly what he was going to reveal. Club Pop is real and Sugar Pop created it."

"Did you tell anyone about the story? Why didn't you publish the story yourself? Is it the reason he went missing?" Clay asked, leaning forward.

"I tried to tell the trolls investigating his disappearance, but there was nothing to back up my claim. When Morocco disappeared, so did all of his research, testimonies and the finished article itself. I couldn't have published the story, even if I wanted to." Jiggs rested both hands back down on the desk and stared at them as he spoke, "but I wouldn't have. I truly believe his disappearance was linked to Club Pop, and that's why when I inherited his position, I swore to protect myself from a similar fate. I will never touch the topic of Club Pop, Sugar Pop, or anything relating to either, in my stories."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a friend like that. I'm sorry." Clay's ears lowered. Not wanting to upset Jiggs more, he spoke gently, "I bet that made it hard to stay with Goldie when you found out she was related to Sugar Pop, didn't it?"

Jiggs shrugged, "Yes, and no. I had to ask myself if it was worth it when I found out she was a permanent Club Pop member. And the thought of Sugar Pop never accepting me, is terrifying, but... I love her. I really _really_ love her. I fell for Goldie long before she revealed anything to me and there's no going back now."

The look in Jiggs' eyes was enough to paint the whole picture for Clay. While he, himself, had never been in love like that before, his heart went out to him. His friend was swept up by love and dropped into the very thing he swore to avoid. It was sad, but a little poetic. Relaxing back into his seat, he said, "I just wish this told more more about Sugar Pop herself, you know?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you more about her. Goldie doesn't talk about what goes on at the club or anything having to do with Sugar Pop's role in it. All I know is that Goldie thinks the world of her and considers her a big sister, more than a cousin," he said, trying to think of more things that would help Clay out. "I guess I could add in that permanent club members have a tattoo of a lollipop hidden on their back, but I know that doesn't really help either."

"That's interesting to know, but yeah, it isn't much help." sighed Clay.

With everything out in the open, the two trolls once again fell into a moment of awkward silence. By now, the sun had gone down enough to darken the room around them. Jiggs took the opportunity to turn on his desk lamp before it got any harder to see.

Clay leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. Searching his mind for anything to ask that might get him some more answers as he stared down at nothing. "I guess this is a dead end, isn't it?" he muttered.

"What do you mean?" asked Jiggs.

"I mean, learning about the club is great and learning more about you is cool too, but... I guess it just isn't what I was looking for." said Clay, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I still don't know what happened between her and my brother. I don't even know what to believe about her anymore. This all started as a joke with the guys, but then you showed up at the bar and... I just wanted to be cool. I didn't want to dive headfirst into a giant conspiracy and I can't even figure out why I care so much? Things would go back to the way they were if I could just let this go."

Jiggs startled him with a soft pat on the shoulder. In the time that Clay was rambling, he had gotten up and stood beside him. "It feels weird saying this since we're the same age and it's going to sound very corny, but sometimes you need to give your brain a rest and listen to your heart. Follow your instincts and stop trying to analyze everything."

"That is really corny coming from you..." The warmth Clay felt from both the touch and the kind words left him with a genuine smile as he looked up at Jiggs. "Now we gotta hug," said Clay as he stood and wrapped his strong arms around him.

"Unofficial, official Hug Time," said Jiggs with a light chuckle, as he hugged Clay back.

An abrupt knock on the door immediately scared both of them out of the hug, but it was Heather's signature knock. "You've got someone else here to see you! Says his name is Horace! If you're throwin' a party in there, you best invite me too!" she laughed.

Jiggs' ear twitched as he stared at the door like a stag in headlights. "I- uh..." he muttered.

"Are you alright?" asked Clay, glancing between the door and his freaked out friend.

"Well, do you want me to let him in or make him leave?!" shouted Heather impatiently.

Forcing himself to snap out of it with a quick shake, Jiggs moved over to the door and unlocked it. Then hastily ran back to his seat behind the desk, jumping over the whole thing to do so.

Clay watched with surprise, unaware Jiggs could move so quickly.

"Let him in!" Jiggs shouted back, trying to look like he wasn't thrown off by this.

Holding the door open for the new Troll, Heather was noticeably smitten with the unusually tall young man. "Now if you need anything else, hon, let me know," she said with a smile as she left. Not noticing his complete ignorance of her.

With his hair brushing against the doorway on his way in, Clay was blown away by his height as well. While still standing, he quickly went over to shake his hand and introduce himself. Though it was more so to compare heights. "Hi!" said Clay, not even realizing Horace didn't make an effort to shake his hand.

On the way in, Horace had been looking Jiggs dead in the eyes, but Clay was an unexpected distraction. Standing a head taller than him, he could see Clay's blush and this made him smile as he spoke in a smooth tone, "I didn't think you would have company, Jiggs. Maybe I should reschedule?"

"Um... no. No, that won't be necessary. I can see you right now," said Jiggs, forcing himself to speak in a calm and professional manner.

"Do you want me to go?" asked Clay, glancing back at him.

"No!" Jiggs covered his mouth, not intending to say it so loudly. "I mean, no. We still have a lot to talk about and this will only take a few minutes."

"Alright," said Clay with a shrug. As he took his seat, he couldn't take his eyes off of Horace. The guy was as tall as a tree and built lean. He only assumed he was young because of his unusual choice in outfit. Baggy blue jeans with an oversized purple and orange striped sweater that clashed with his light green complection. Complemented with some light black eyeliner and a spiked leather choker. But none of that bothered Clay at all when he caught a glimpse of his eyes. It was those intense hot pink eyes that drew him in even more so than how tall he was. He wouldn't be ashamed to admit that he was just as smitten with him as Heather was.

"So, I have to ask, why are you here, Horace?" Jiggs lowered his tone.

"I hand an idea for your musings column." said Horace, forcing himself to stop staring at his admirer, and give Jiggs his full attention as he took a seat in the chair right beside Clay. That's why he was there, after all. "I'd like to recite a poem. It would mean the world to me if you could publish it. I'm what you might call, a struggling artist."

"Oh," said Jiggs, with brows raised. "I've never had anyone request something like this before. That's actually very interesting. So, sure. Just give me a moment to get some fresh paper in my typewriter and we can get started."

"Thank you." said Horace, smirking as he gave Clay another quick glance.

"You're a poet? How long have you been writing?" asked Clay, scooting his chair closer to him.

Horace shook his head. "Not very long. I'm only nineteen," he answered.

Both Jiggs and Clay looked at him with wide eyes.

"Nineteen?" Clay blurted out. "But, you're so big?!"

"And well-spoken," added Jiggs. The typewriter now ready for him.

"Thank you again, but please, I'm not much better than anyone else." said Horace. Not wanting to indulge in their complements too much.

Jigs put his fingers together and cracked them. "I'm ready whenever you are," he said.

"I am," said Horace before clearing his throat. Then, without missing a beat, he recited his poem to them. " _As I awake in my bitter-broken bed, I hear the voice of reason in my in my head. Begging me to go back to sleep, despite the appointments I have to keep. Because it knows my desires will take control, it's just too much for a once innocent Troll. So if you ever catch me holding my breath, just know that I'm only wishing for death._ "

"Edgy. Nice." Clay's compliment was sincere, but came out in a forced 'cool' way. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?" he asked.

"Not long at all. Words come easily to me," he said with a shrug. "There are very few things in life we can control, but our words are one of them."

"That's very impressive for your age, Horace," said Jiggs as he finished typing and pulled the paper from the typewriter. "Your poem is a bit dark, but creative. I'm sure people will love it."

Horace ignored Jiggs and brought his curled finger up to his chin, clearly thinking about something as he looked Clay over. Studying him. But before things could become awkward, he asked, "You're related to Slate, aren't you?"

Both Clay and Jiggs, _once again_ , froze and looked at Horace, wide-eyed.

"He's my brother. How do you know him?" asked Clay, feeling deja-vu.

"I know a lot of people," said Horace. "You look a lot like him."

Again, Clay looked at Horace excitedly as he sat on the edge of his seat. "That's _exactly_ what Sugar Pop said to me last night! Please tell me that you know her?"

Very interested in where the conversation was going, Horace turned his chair so that he was facing Clay. "I've known her since I was a child and my life wouldn't be what it is today without her," he said.

"Since you know both of them, do you know why my brother hates Sugar Pop? If you know, _please_ tell me?" Clay asked desperately. This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Horace shrugged again, folding his arms over his chest. "I wasn't aware he hated her and I can't imagine why. So, unfortunately, I can't answer your question. I'm sorry," he said, displaying no emotion as he spoke.

"Fuck!" snapped Clay. "Of course, it's my luck that you wouldn't know. No one, except them, knows and Slate won't tell me anything."

Rolling his eyes, Horace spoke before Clay could continue on with his rant, "Besides pointing out the obvious, your melodrama is ridiculous."

" _Oh, please._ Coming from the emo kid with the edgy poems?" said Clay, but he immediately regretted it. Realizing how rude it was. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

" _Uh-huh._ " Horace watched Clay with a raised brow. "Well, I will not apologize for my age or my taste in art, but I will put you in your place by offering some words of wisdom." He stood up, just for the added pleasure of looking down on Clay as he spoke. "If you have a problem, find the source, and you'll be halfway to finding the solution. The fact that you've tried asking everyone except Sugar Pop herself, amuses me."

"But what if she doesn't want to talk to me?" asked Clay quickly, trying to save face. Hearing it from Horace made him feel stupid for his approach to the problem, up to this point.

"You'll just have to visit her and find out. Her pod is half a mile up the river from the village," said Horace as he made his way to the door to leave. Before going, though, he turned back to Jiggs one last time and said, "thanks for taking the time to listen to me, Jiggs. You have a wonderful evening."

"You too," muttered Jiggs. The moment Horace was out the door, he jumped up from his desk and ran over to the door to lock it again. "Clay! _Claaaay!_ " he said shakily.

"What?" he asked, watching his friend behave strange again.

"I don't know who that was! Jiggs doesn't have an official office here. He could clearly see the name on the desk wasn't Jiggs. How did he know me?" he panicked.

"Woah, you need to relax. Maybe he heard about you through someone?" said Clay, trying to rationalize it.

"Or he's from the club!" Jiggs began pacing. "I had a feeling they were watching me when I started dating Goldie, but this... _Oh god..._ "

"Okay, that _is_ freaky, but I'm sure there's a normal reason for why he was here," he said, still unconvinced Horace was any trouble.

Jiggs was rubbing his hands together and grinding his teeth. Paranoia getting the better of him. "Listen, I _really_ hate to ask this of you, but would you mind walking home with me tonight? I know I'm just being paranoid, but..."

"It's okay." Clay smiled. "I'll walk with you, but I'd like to get going soon if we can. I want to pay Sugar Pop a visit before it gets too late."

" _Thank you!_ " Jiggs hugged him, appreciating the company.


End file.
